


A Mutually Pleasurable Consensual Experience

by Deastar



Series: They Say Love Heals All Wounds [11]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Psychics/Psionics, Anal Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Soul Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 22:23:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9849041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deastar/pseuds/Deastar
Summary: Geno waits for Sid to cut another piece of roast, then says, “What I want to ask is… what you think about, what you want with me, before we together, you know? With sex.”Sid takes his time chewing. When he’s done, he asks, “You mean like… fantasies? What I would think about when I jerked off?”Geno nods, looking at Sid intently.“Oh, wow, G. I mean… I thought about… pretty much everything,” Sid confesses, blushing.Geno blows out a breath, his lips pushing out as if for a kiss. He mutters, “I’m stupid, try to ask but not ask. Stupid. Should just say.” He looks up from the table, meeting Sid’s gaze straight on, and asks, “You think about fuck me, Sid? You want?”





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to They Say Love Heals All Wounds and probably won't make a ton of sense without having read that first, but on the other hand, it's half porn, so you do you. If you DO read this without reading They Say Love Heals All Wounds, please be advised that there are some mild, fairly oblique references to past sexual trauma in this sequel.
> 
> Content warning for mention of homophobic on-ice verbal harassment, some of which takes the form of rape threats.

Sid often wishes he could read other people the way that most people can. There are a dozen little ways it would be useful every day. But it’s different with Geno – Geno is so clear, so straightforward. When he’s happy, he’s smiling or playing footsie with Sid under the table, and when he’s angry, he’s snarling and hunching his shoulders. Most of the time, Sid’s pretty confident he knows what’s going on with Geno.

Of course, then there’s the rest of the time. Like tonight.

Geno had set the table and cooked them a beautiful roast with vegetables, and Sid had been totally unaware that they were about to have a Serious Talk until Geno had sat down across the table from Sid a minute ago, looked Sid in the eye, and said, “It’s okay we talk about sex now?”

Sid blinks. He’d thought Geno was trying to be romantic with the place settings and the food, and maybe he was, but Sid didn’t exactly see _this_ coming.

“I remember rules, make time when we know we not going to have sex right after,” Geno adds anxiously, gesturing at the food on the table.

“Oh. Yeah. Okay.” Sid makes himself cut a bite of roast beef and eat it. It’s pretty great, but he barely notices – his stomach is churning with tension. “Let’s talk about it. Am I—am I doing stuff you don’t want me to do?” he asks, feeling an immediate lurch in his gut at the thought.

But Geno shakes his head and says, “No,” immediately. “No, Sid. If you do thing I don’t want, I tell you right away, like I promise, okay?”

Sid lets out a deep rush of breath. He was pretty sure that was true, but he’s glad to have the reassurance anyway. “Okay,” he says. “Great. So what’s up?”

“You don’t like dinner?” Geno asks nervously, gesturing at Sid’s plate.

It’s a pretty obvious delaying tactic, but Sid doesn’t mind – whatever Geno needs for this conversation, Sid wants him to have it.

“I do like it, it’s really good,” Sid tells him, taking another bite. “Thanks for making dinner, G.”

Geno beams with pride. “You welcome.” He waits for Sid to cut another piece of roast, then says, “What I want to ask is… what you think about, what you want with me, before we together, you know? With sex.”

Sid takes his time chewing. When he’s done, he asks, “You mean like… fantasies? What I would think about when I jerked off?”

Geno nods, looking at Sid intently.

“Oh, wow, G. I mean, I thought about… pretty much everything,” Sid confesses, blushing. “Do you—should I do a list or something?”

“No,” Geno says, before cocking his head and amending, “Actually, yes. I like very much to see this list, but is not what I’m…” He blows out a breath, his lips pushing out as if for a kiss. He mutters, “I’m stupid, try to ask but not ask. Stupid. Should just say.” He looks up from the table, meeting Sid’s gaze straight on, and asks, “You think about fuck me, Sid? You want?”

Sid’s breath catches, and his stomach thrums with nerves again. There’s no question of lying to Geno—yeah, Sid wants that, and he wants it a lot—but it’s still hard to say, for a lot of reasons, starting with the fact that he’s not sure what _Geno_ wants. He can’t tell if this is an “I want this thing and I hope you do, too, so we can do it” conversation, or if this is an “I don’t want to do this and I’m telling you now so you don’t get your hopes up” conversation. Well, whichever it is, the answer is the same, and Sid better nut up and say it.

“Yeah,” Sid says, keeping his voice steady. “Yeah, I did think about that – did want that. I do want that. As long as you do, too. Is that okay?”

Much to Sid’s relief, Geno nods right away. “Yes, is okay, Sid – is _good_ , Sid. I want, too.” He ducks his head when he smiles at Sid, a little shy. “I think about, too – before and now. A lot. Is why I ask.” Then he gives Sid’s shin a teasing poke with his bare toes and asks, “Why you so scared, say you want to fuck me, Sid? You think I’m get mad?”

“Maybe,” Sid says honestly. “It’s not like…” He exhales heavily and tries to put his thoughts in order. “It’s weird, I don’t know. Saying you want to fuck somebody… it’s different than saying you want to do other sex stuff with them,” he explains, looking down at his own hands, which are fidgeting with the edge of his plate. “The guys on other teams who say they’re gonna bend me over the bench… they’re not saying they want to have a mutually pleasurable, consensual experience with me, you know?” Sid’s mouth quirks up at the corner, trying for wryness, but it’s hard to take this lightly. “They mean that they want to hurt me and humiliate me. They’re trying to scare me. Because that’s what they think about getting fucked – that it’s shameful, that it’s bad. That it makes you not a man.” He shoots a look up at Geno. “You know. We’ve talked about this.”

Geno lets out a long sigh. “Later,” he says, long-suffering, “you give me names of guys who say this to you—”

Sid narrows his eyes. “So you can take stupid penalties?”

“For you, so not stupid,” Geno insists, jaw set stubbornly. “But I’m not argue about this now. Sid, I know you don’t want to hurt me,” he says firmly, looking Sid right in the eye. “I know if you want to fuck me, you want, uh…” He pulls up short and makes his “English is the worst” face.

Sid supplies, “A mutually pleasurable, consensual experience?”

“Yes,” Geno says, nodding. “So don’t be scared to say you want. Don’t be scared to say you want _anything_ ,” he adds, leaning in over the table for emphasis. “Even if I don’t want, I’m not get mad.”

“Oh.” That’s... Sid had hoped for that, and it’s how he feels about Geno asking for stuff, too, but—it’s really nice to hear Geno say it. It’s really nice to be sure. And it’s really nice, too, to think that maybe some of his fantasies about fucking Geno are going to come true, and that Geno _wants_ that. “Okay,” Sid says, half to himself. “Cool.” He applies himself to his dinner, sure that there must be a pretty silly grin on his face.

Geno nudges Sid with his foot again. “You so happy,” he says softly. “You want so much?”

“I do,” Sid replies, just as softly – he doesn’t see any reason to hide it, not now that Geno said he wants it, too. “ _So_ much, G.”

Geno hums inquisitively. “You think about a lot? You think about most?”

“I… probably,” Sid says, blushing again. “I meant it when I said I thought about everything. But thinking about… about fucking you was… probably my favorite?”

He’s sort of hoping Geno will say it was his favorite, too. But Geno just smiles a little wider, says, “Happy we talk about, then,” and keeps eating.

So probably not his favorite – not exactly a surprise. Geno’s obsession with Sid’s ass leaves Sid with a pretty good idea what Geno’s favorite fantasy probably is. He tries to shove down the guilt at not being able to give that to Geno, but Geno catches it anyway, frowning at Sid.

“Before, you so happy – now you sad. What’s wrong, Sid?”

Sid sighs. “I’m feeling bad that you can’t fuck me. That I’m not ready for that. I know you’re about to tell me it’s dumb, and I know it’s not my fault. I just feel guilty. I can’t help it.”

Geno considers that for a moment, then nods and pops a piece of carrot in his mouth. While he’s chewing, he says, “Is fair. You can’t help feelings. If you know I don’t think bad about you, don’t mind, then… feelings is feelings.”

“Thanks, G.” That actually makes Sid feel better than if Geno had tried to talk him out of feeling guilty.

Geno rubs his foot over Sid’s shin comfortingly, then eats another piece of carrot.

When the two of them have finished eating, and Sid has complimented Geno’s cooking again, they start cleaning up the kitchen. Sid is loading up the dishwasher when Geno asks, “What you think about, when you think about fuck me? What’s fantasy like?”

Sid swallows, and turns to look across the kitchen at Geno. Geno is looking back, eyes heated; his attention is clearly not on the dishes.

“I… what do you mean?” Sid asks, aware that he’s probably stalling, but whatever, he let Geno stall earlier, it’s fair.

Geno steps close to Sid, gaze still fixed on his face. His voice is low and honeyed when he asks, “I mean, how you want me, Sid? On my knees, on my back? You want I ride you?”

Wow, is Sid’s throat dry all of a sudden. He thought about all those things, but his favorite… “You, um—on your back,” he answers, flushing when his voice cracks like a teenager’s.

“Mm,” Geno hums, pleased, “and you on top of me, yes?”

“Um, yes.”

“I like!” Geno actually does a little wiggle of delight, like a dog, which is unbearably cute. He boxes Sid in against the counter and murmurs, “You know I like Sid’s big body on me, cover me up—”

Sid narrows his eyes. “My ‘big body’… this morning you were calling me short again, patting me on the head like an asshole—”

“Shush, Sid,” Geno says, shaking his head. His eyes glint with mischief. “Of course you short—” Sid glares. “—but also most wide, best, lots of muscle, I like. Like this, yes?” Geno grabs Sid by the hips and switches their positions neatly, so that Geno’s the one backed up to the counter and Sid’s the one pressing him into it. Geno hums with pleasure again and grins at Sid. “See? Best.”

And okay, yes, it’s—it’s pretty fucking great having Geno under him, and it’s even better knowing that Geno _loves_ being under him, likes to have as much of Sid’s body pressing him down as he possibly can. But he still can’t call Sid short and then say—

Geno makes an aggravated noise and spreads his legs around Sid’s hips, bucking up against Sid provocatively. He dives in for a rough kiss, then mumbles into Sid’s mouth, “This is sexy time now, Sid, we argue about short later, come on.”

“Okay,” Sid allows, trying to catch his breath, settling his hands on Geno’s waist. “Sexy time now, it’s a deal.”

“Good.” Geno gives him another kiss, then pleads, “Tell me more about fantasy, Sid.”

“What do you want to know?” Sid asks. He’d rather still be kissing Geno than be talking, but he knows Geno likes it when Sid talks dirty, and Sid is into giving Geno what he likes.

Geno asks, “How fantasy start, Sid?”

Before they were together, Sid’s fantasies would start with some elaborate scenario explaining how straight, unattainable fantasy-Geno ended up in bed with him… but now that he knows Geno wants him, they tend to be a lot simpler. He begins, “Well, we’d be—we’d be naked…”

“Yes, good start,” Geno agrees, and his long fingers slide between them to undo Sid’s fly, brushing against Sid’s half-hard cock and making him gasp. “What happen next, Sid?” he asks, pulling Sid’s shirt off.

So apparently they’re going to fuck in the kitchen; Sid used to have a policy discouraging this, he vaguely remembers, but right now his dick is in Geno’s hands and he really doesn’t give a shit.

“I’d—I’d give you my fingers, first,” he says.

Geno make a noise of agreement and pauses to pick up one of Sid’s hands. Delicately, he kisses Sid’s fingertips—so tender it makes Sid’s chest hurt. “You know I like hands, a lot,” he murmurs.

“Yeah,” Sid says helplessly, hand trapped in Geno’s feather-light grip. “Yeah, I know.”

“Good.” Geno kisses Sid’s fingers again, then lets go and starts unzipping his own fly. “I bet you very careful, you open me, yes?”

“Yes,” Sid vows, “so careful, G, of course I would be—”

Geno cuts him off with a kiss. “Take good care of me, yes?”

Sid babbles, “Oh, I would, I always will.”

“I know, Sid.” Geno’s eyes are warm. “Always know. In _my_ fantasy, too, always take care.” He smiles broadly. “And when I’m open for you? What next?”

“Then I’d… you’d…” Sid can feel his cheeks go hot, even though Geno knows perfectly well by now how Sid feels about his legs. “You’d wrap your legs around my waist—”

“Yes,” Geno rumbles, expression sharp with satisfaction. He hitches his bare ass back until he’s perched on the edge of the counter, then starts shoving at his jeans and underwear, bunched around his thighs. Sid helps him pull them off, and then, before Sid can even properly appreciate the sight of Geno half-naked in front of him, Geno stretches out his perfect legs and pulls Sid in close, enfolding him in warm skin and crossing his ankles over Sid’s spine. “Yes, here,” Geno whispers, wrapping his arms, too, around Sid’s body, until Sid is cradled in a double embrace. “Here, where you belong.”

God, Sid is so fucking hard, but his heart is melting, too, at Geno's sweetness. It’s never just physical between the two of them – Sid doesn’t think it ever could be.

In Sid’s ear, Geno says, low, “Then you inside me, yes?”

“Yes,” Sid breathes. He reaches down between them to curl his hand around Geno’s cock, and Geno makes an impatient noise and nudges Sid’s hips closer until Geno can wrap a hand around both of them together. They moan in the same breath, and Sid can’t help thrusting into their joined hands. “Then I’m inside you, yeah,” he pants into Geno’s ear. “And you love it, you’re moaning, telling me how good it feels—”

“Feels _so_ good, Sid,” Geno groans, urging Sid on with his heels.

“And you’d be… writhing around under me, like it felt too good, like you couldn’t get enough…” Sid knows what that looks like now, how beautifully Geno’s body wears his pleasure, and it’s ten times better than Sid’s fantasies had been.

“Never enough of Sid, no,” Geno mutters, tightening his grasp around their cocks, making Sid mewl.

It was hard, at the beginning, to talk like this, but now that he’s gotten into it, he can’t seem to make himself stop. “And you’d feel so—so amazing under me and—and around me…”

“Best, Sid, best—” Geno chants, breathless, his hand working between their bodies.

“I’d feel you come around me, so fucking hot—”

Geno demands, “Make _you_ come, Sid, fuck,” moving his hand faster, “come on, come, Sid—”

And Sid does, wrapped up in Geno in every way, gasping into the hollow of Geno’s neck. He tries to keep his hand moving, wanting Geno here with him in this, too, and a minute later, he gets it – Geno’s come splashed up his forearm, and Geno’s rough, low moan in his ear.

When it’s over, Sid leans into Geno’s chest, trying to catch his breath. There’s a pile of dishes abandoned by the sink, and drops of jizz on the countertop, but Sid could not possibly care less. “That was _so awesome_ ,” he mumbles, tucking his head into the curve where Geno’s shoulder meets his neck.

“So awesome,” Geno agrees, petting Sid’s hair. When he unwinds his legs from around Sid’s body, Sid misses their warmth.

As Geno hops down from the counter and they put themselves back together a little, Sid can’t stop smiling. “We should…” he ventures, “um, we should do that, then. We should—just like that.”

Geno returns Sid’s smile, eager and sweet, with just the tiniest twinkle of smugness in his eyes. “Yes, should do,” he declares, and he gathers Sid up for a magnanimous kiss before strolling right out of the kitchen, bare-assed and gorgeous. Sid just stands there next to the dishwasher, holding up his jeans one-handed, and shakes his head, laughing a little. Geno can be like this sometimes – a force of nature. And Sid never sees it coming, but when it happens, it always leaves him breathless. God, he’s so lucky.

Geno beats him to the shower, so he’s out the shower door almost as soon as Sid goes in; when he reads Sid’s dissatisfaction, he just laughs. “Too slow,” he admonishes through the glass door, rubbing himself down with a towel. “But you come to bed, we have lots of kisses,” he promises, and Sid can be content with that.

When Sid joins him in bed, he makes good on his promise, tugging Sid close for a flurry of kisses that makes Sid dizzy. Eventually, Geno pulls back enough to let them both catch their breath. “When you want to do?” he asks Sid, eagerly. “Tonight?”

“Oh, wow.” Anticipation and nerves both flare in Sid’s belly as he imagines it. He wants to be inside Geno so much, wants them to share that… but he’s also sharply aware that this will be different, in some ways, from the stuff they’ve done in bed together in the past. There’s a risk of Sid hurting Geno—physically and otherwise—that hasn’t been there before, and he wants to reassure himself a little about those risks before just diving in.

So Sid says, “Maybe,” and he’s relieved when Geno doesn’t look disappointed at getting something other than a _Yes, right now, let’s do it_. “Can we talk a little bit more, first?”

“Of course talk,” Geno replies. He settles a hand on Sid’s waist, then looks at Sid patiently, waiting for him to get his thoughts together.

Sid begins, “So you said you, um, you thought about it, too – about me fucking you. Like… you had fantasies about it.”

Geno smiles, encouraging. “Yes, Sid, I think of lots.”

“So you used your fingers a lot, then,” Sid says, relieved. If Geno is already used to penetration, already comfortable with it—physically and emotionally—then there’s less chance of Sid hurting him or upsetting him.

But Geno hesitates just for a second before saying, “Yes, I use fingers, you right,” which wasn’t precisely what Sid had asked.

“Geno?” he prompts. This is important stuff – they have to be honest with each other here, especially when the alternative could be Geno being hurt—Geno being hurt by _Sid_.

Geno gives Sid a pleading look, and insists, “I use fingers, Sid!”

But not _a lot_ – that’s the part he keeps avoiding. Well, Sid doesn’t know how much Geno thinks is “a lot,” so he doesn’t need to freak out yet. Trying to figure that out, he asks, “When was the last time?”

“Last time I use fingers?” Geno says – he must have understood Sid, so he’s stalling again.

“Yes, Geno.” Sid doesn’t understand why this conversation is hard for Geno, but he can tell that it is, so he tries to be patient, strokes Geno’s arm gently.

Geno looks embarrassed, suddenly, and oddly fragile. Quietly, he says, “Year. Maybe little less. Last summer.”

Sid jolts backward, reeling. “A _year_ ago?” he asks, trying and failing to keep his voice from squeaking.

Geno just looks even more embarrassed and defensive – he doesn’t say anything.

“Geno,” Sid says, as evenly as he can, “how many times have you used your fingers on yourself? Inside?” Since he already knows that Geno didn’t have experience with toys, whatever the number is, that’ll be the number of times he’s _ever_ had something inside himself—recreationally, anyway.

Geno looks cornered. Eventually he looks away and mutters. “Ten times, maybe, twenty. Don’t know.”

Sid just stares, speechless. He’s been attracted to Sid for ten years, and in all that time, he’s only thought about Sid fucking him—what, once, maybe twice a year? And now all of a sudden he wants Sid to believe he’s changed his mind?

Geno hunches his shoulders and grits out, “Sorry I disappoint, you want more experienced, I—” He breaks off and rolls away from Sid, his body language screaming hurt and insecurity.

“Geno, no, come on,” Sid says urgently, reaching out to hold Geno, “that’s not what’s going on here. This isn’t about… wanting you to have more _experience_ , come on, G, how fucking hypocritical would that be? I came into this relationship with a few shitty one-sided blowjobs and some bro handjobs, remember? Seriously, Geno, I don’t give a shit about how much experience you have.”

Reluctantly, Geno turns back over, searching Sid’s face – he can’t help but know Sid is telling the truth. “Why you upset, then?” he demands. “Why make you freaked out, disappoint when I say I don’t use fingers a lot?”

“I guess I—it’s hard for me to believe you really want me to fuck you when it seems like you didn’t like doing it to yourself,” Sid says steadily. “But I don’t have the right to be disappointed by—”

Geno makes an aggravated noise, cutting him off, and starts trying to climb over Sid.

“Geno?” Baffled, Sid tries to figure out what’s going on while simultaneously dodging Geno’s knee, which nearly lands in Sid’s crotch twice. “What are you doing?”

“I’m get lube, put fingers in ass, show you how much I like, maybe then you believe,” Geno huffs, flailing toward the bedside table where they keep the lube.

Sid grabs Geno’s shoulder, trying to keep him still. “Geno—Geno, stop, come on, let’s talk about this, okay? Just hang on a second.”

Geno stops, but he stays perched over Sid on all fours, giving Sid a mulish look that clearly says, _Okay, but if this isn’t productive, I’m going right back to Plan A_.

Then he sighs, and the belligerence washes out of him. He sags to the side, and flops down on the bed next to Sid, one arm and leg still sprawled over Sid’s body. “You remember,” he asks Sid, ruefully, “before, when I tell you I want you sleep in my bed, and you don’t believe until I cry on you in basement, and then you say, Okay, Geno, I believe you want what you say you want?”

Sid flushes. “Yeah, I remember that.” _It’s not the same_ , he wants to say, but… what if it is?

Geno gives Sid an uncomfortably steady look. “You make me cry on you in basement before you believe me when I say I want you to fuck me, too?”

Sid feels his cheeks get hotter. Okay, he doesn’t exactly have the best track record here, Geno’s right about that. “No,” he manages, “I’m not going to make you cry on me in the basement. Or anywhere.”

“Good,” Geno says, satisfied.

But Sid still feels unsettled. Intellectually, he gets what Geno’s saying. Of course he trusts Geno – and that has to include trusting Geno when he says he wants something, instead of Sid trying to decide _for_ Geno what Geno wants. But at the same time, Sid’s been working hard with his therapist LaShawn on remembering that what _he_ wants matters, too. And what Sid wants is some reassurance. He doesn’t want to start doing stuff to Geno in bed without understanding why Geno didn’t like doing that stuff to himself. What if there’s some specific thing that made Geno not like it, and Sid might end up doing that thing without knowing? So he thinks that’s a pretty reasonable request.

“I’m still a little worried,” he says quietly, making an effort to meet Geno’s eyes, “and it would help me if you could tell me… what it was like, I guess, when you used your fingers, before. Why you didn’t want to do it more.” He takes a breath in, a little uneven. “Would you—could you do that for me? You don’t have to,” he adds, hurried, but Geno shushes him.

“Of course I do for you,” he says firmly. He tugs on Sid until Sid rolls onto his side to face him, then leans in for a long, gentle kiss. An inch away from Sid’s mouth, he murmurs, “I want to help, always. So if talk is help, then I’m talk. Easy, okay?”

A little of the tension that had built up in Sid’s shoulders melts. “Okay,” he replies, shaky. “Thank you.”

Geno shakes his head. “Don’t have to thank.” He’s silent for a minute or so, then, but Sid doesn’t get anxious – he can tell Geno is thinking, putting his words together.

Eventually, Geno takes a quick breath and starts, “So first is, I like fingers, okay, Sid? If I don’t like, then I only do one time, right? If I don’t like, I’m not do again.”

“Huh,” Sid says, considering. “Yeah, I—that makes sense.” That’s looking at Geno’s ten or twenty tries from sort of the opposite side than the one Sid had been seeing them from, but it makes sense, for sure, especially for something Geno was doing by himself. He might do stuff he wasn’t a big fan of to please a partner—that’s basically what Sid’s afraid of here—but if he was just jerking off, then yeah, it’s tough to imagine Geno doing something he already knew he wouldn’t like.

“But for why I don’t do more…” Geno makes a rueful face. “Is embarrassing,” he admits, before heaving a resigned sigh and continuing, “but I think is because it’s… pain in the ass, you know? Not _pain_ ,” he corrects hastily, “it’s not _hurt_. It’s just…” He huffs. “Hard to reach, and hand get stiff, and lube go everywhere, and I’m not good at it, you know? Not like I am with jerk off. And I know, practice make better, but I don’t _want_ practice, I want feel good right away! I’m lazy,” he mumbles, sheepish, “I know. Not with _you_ , though, Sid!” he adds quickly, eyes pleading. “With you I take time, take care, patient—”

“Of course you do,” Sid says firmly. “I know that.” He hesitates. “It still kind of sounds like… you didn’t like it that much. So it’s still tough for me to understand why you’re so sure you’ll like it with me, you know?”

Geno gives him a sly smile and says, “But with you, Sid, _you_ do all the work. Best, yes?”

Sid laughs a little. “I guess so, yeah.” He hadn’t thought of that, actually – that the simple mechanics would be easier with a partner. It does make him feel a little better.

But Geno’s not done. He reaches down and starts playing with Sid’s fingers. Quietly, he confesses, “Other reason I don’t do a lot is… after-part, it’s not so good. During, is good, feels good, but after I come, after I take out fingers…” He wrinkles his nose a little. Softer still, he says, “I lie there, you know, alone, and I feel… empty. Sticky, messy – stiff. And it’s—lonely, maybe. After jerk off, it’s not feel like this, but fingers is different. Sad after. And I think this part is different with you. Not lonely with you.”

“No,” Sid says, hearing his voice get rough with emotion, “no, you wouldn’t be lonely with me, Geno. I wouldn’t let that happen.” He kisses Geno fiercely.

His heart feels sore in his chest, because the thing is, he knows exactly what Geno means. He’d forgotten it until now, but when Geno had started describing that loneliness, Sid had recognized it right away. When he’d started experimenting with penetration, Sid had felt that same letdown afterward, sometimes – a sense of emptiness that went deeper than just the physical. It wasn’t all the time, and eventually, as he got more comfortable with his fingers and with toys, it had gone away. But what Geno’s saying makes total sense – and it explains to Sid’s satisfaction, too, why Geno didn’t crave having something inside him enough to want to do it a lot. If penetration, to Geno, meant stiff joints and loneliness, then Sid can understand why he wouldn’t do it often enough to work past those things.

When Sid surfaces from his thoughts, Geno is looking straight at him, patient and serious, one hand cupped around Sid’s cheek. “Sid,” he says quietly, “I know you scared, okay? I know you scared a lot, because of bond crisis, you gonna hurt me with sex, or do sex thing I’m not want. But _I’m not let you_. Ever. I promise. I know if you hurt me, scare me, make me uncomfortable, it hurt you, scare you, too. And I never, ever want. Love you so much.”

“I love you, too, G.” Sid’s throat is tight, and he has to blink a few times to clear his eyes.

“So trust me, okay?” Geno says, his voice gentle. “Trust if I say I want, I want. And trust if I change my mind, if something hurt or make me feel bad, I tell you right away and I say stop, okay?”

Sid takes a deep breath. “Yeah,” he agrees, “I can do that. I do trust you, G, just—”

“Is hard,” Geno supplies, nodding a little. “Is okay. Relationships hard sometimes. Not always have to be easy.”

“No. You’re right.” Sid and LaShawn talk about that a lot – about the fact that love takes work sometimes, and that’s okay. It’s hard not to feel sometimes like love is supposed to be easy, and if there are difficult parts, then you must be fucking it up. But everything worthwhile takes work, LaShawn reminds him, and Sid knows for sure that that’s true.

“Come on, we have hugs,” Geno urges, reaching for Sid, and Sid gratefully slides into his arms. They trade slow kisses, and Sid’s nerves gradually settle into calm.

Sid rests his forehead against Geno’s. “You want me to fuck you,” he says, firmly shutting the door on the little voice in his head that wants to tell him it’s too good to be true, wants to tell him, _You don’t get to have this_.

“I want a lot, yes,” Geno replies, in a low rumble. “I think about, even when I don’t do fingers. And if we try, and it’s not good like I think, then I tell you and we stop and do something else and it’s okay.”

“That sounds good.” In fact, it sounds pretty much perfect.

Geno asks carefully, “Tonight?”

Sid shakes his head. “I think I’m too—”

“Okay, not tonight,” Geno says, saving Sid from having to come up with a word that sums up all the crazy whiplash of emotions that he’s felt tonight. “Tomorrow is better.” Then he visibly perks up. “Tomorrow morning?” he asks hopefully. “Morning sex?”

Sid laughs a little at Geno’s enthusiasm; Sid’s not really a morning person, but Geno’s love of morning sex has been doing a pretty good job converting him. “Yeah, sure – we can do it in the morning.”  
“Best. And now cuddles. With TV? Animal Planet?” Geno makes puppy eyes at Sid.

But Sid says regretfully, “No way,” shaking his head. “I mean, later, sure, but we have to clean the kitchen—”

Geno scowls and tugs Sid closer. “Not clean kitchen. Nice and warm here, already naked for bed—”

“Geno, there is _jizz_ on the kitchen counter, probably on the floor, and we are _not_ leaving it there,” Sid says firmly. “Plus, it’s too early to go to sleep.”

“Not sleep yet,” Geno agrees, his jaw pushed out obstinately. “Is why cuddles and Animal Planet! Kitchen still have jizz tomorrow, it’s not big deal, come on, Sid…”

“You know your mother cooks in that kitchen,” Sid says, not afraid to fight dirty. Natalia always texts before coming over, but he’s betting that won’t make much of a difference to Geno.

Geno winces. “Fuck. Yes, okay, we clean.” He kisses Sid once more, then drags himself out of bed, grumbling in Russian.

They throw on some underwear and break out the Lysol, scrubbing down the kitchen and cleaning up the post-dinner detritus that they really should have taken care of earlier. When Sid bends over to wipe up some come that dripped onto the floor, Geno takes the opportunity to ogle his butt; when Geno has his hands full with dirty dishes, Sid takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around Geno and suck a hickey into the side of his neck like a teenager. It’s pretty fun.

Once the kitchen is clean, Geno renews his bid for cuddles and Animal Planet, and this time Sid agrees. They trail down to the den together, and when Sid sits on the couch, Geno sprawls across his lap like a cat, propping himself up on his elbow and taking possession of the remote.

Animal Planet is usually pretty effective at holding Sid’s attention, but tonight it’s not doing the job. His mind keeps getting drawn to tomorrow morning, instead, flipping back and forth between heated fantasies, and worries that douse the fantasies like cold water. God, it could be _so_ good… or Sid could mess up, go too fast, push too far, not be careful enough, get lost in the sensations and forget to put Geno first—

“ _Sid_ ,” Geno says, in a tone of voice that says this isn’t the first time he’s said it.

Sid blinks; the TV is off, and Geno’s face is creased with concern. When Geno sees he has Sid’s attention, his face relaxes into a gentle, fond look, and he leans up to kiss Sid’s cheek.

“Nervous, yes?” he says – it’s not really a question.

Sid sighs and folds forward to bend over Geno’s body. He breathes in Geno’s familiar scent, and it settles him. “Yeah,” he admits. “Are—are you?”

“Yes,” Geno says without hesitation.

Sid bites his lip. With a mixture of disappointment and guilty relief, he offers, “We could… we could wait. Would that be better? Try again later, when you’re not nervous—”

“Sid,” Geno interrupts, rolling onto his back and rubbing the pad of his thumb over Sid’s cheekbone. His smile is crooked, patient. “Wait until I’m not nervous is wait forever, okay? Because always I’m gonna be nervous for first time, because it’s first, and it’s new. So if you want to wait for you, it’s okay. But for me, no point.”

“Okay,” Sid says, letting out a slow breath. “Okay.” He feels the same way about it, actually, and that in itself is a comfort. In this way, too, they’re in it together. They’re a team. That’s all he needs to know.

“Come on, bed, Sid,” Geno says, prodding Sid gently. “Too nervous for Animal Planet, I think.” When Sid straightens back up, Geno climbs off the sofa and offers Sid his hand. “You want I read to you?”

That sounds _really_ good. As Sid takes Geno’s hand and they set off for the bedroom, he says, “I’d really like that, yeah,” squeezing Geno’s hand. “Thank you. But what about you?”

Geno shrugs. “Read to you help relax me, too.”

When they get to the bedroom and Sid sees Geno breaking out the book of Russian fairy tales, he smiles. “The Frog Princess?”

“Best story,” Geno agrees, matching Sid’s smile.

Once they’re both under the covers, close and warm, Geno opens the book and starts to read. The slow storytelling cadence of his voice floods Sid’s mind in waves, washing out his lingering worries and carrying him off to sleep, deep and dark.

*

In the morning, Sid drifts back to wakefulness to find Geno watching him from across the pillow, smiling softly.

“Morning, _solnyshka_ ,” he whispers.

“What’s that mean?” Sid asks, voice scratchy. He reaches out for Geno and sighs when his hand finds the curve of Geno’s ribs.

“Means you very special to me,” Geno replies, leaning in for a kiss.

Thanks to Geno, Sid now has experience with being kissed awake, and it’s pretty much one of his favorite things. He opens his lips eagerly for Geno’s tongue, and makes a pleased noise when his own tongue tastes mint instead of morning breath. When he breaks the kiss, he asks, “How long have you been awake?” He frowns and adds, concerned, “Did you sleep okay?”

But Geno nods right away and says, “Sleep very good. Just get up first and I think, get ready, you know?” he adds, shooting Sid a shy look through his eyelashes.

 _Ready_. Thinking of what they’d planned for this morning, Sid’s stomach starts thrumming with nerves—but with excitement, too. A good night’s sleep hadn’t erased his nervousness, but it gave him some perspective, at least – and with his new clear-headedness, Sid can remember that when he and Geno have tried new sex stuff in the past, it’s usually gone pretty great. There’s no reason this morning should go any differently.

“You got ready, huh?” Sid asks, stroking Geno’s side, feeling his own excitement ramp up.

Geno nods again and gives Sid another shy look, which Sid doesn’t totally understand. “Brush teeth,” he confirms, “and shower also. And, uh…” He trails off, looking distinctly awkward. “I, uh, use bathroom,” he says, so quietly Sid can barely understand him, “but I don’t know if I need to do more, need to do… special clean thing.” Sid blinks, not sure what Geno’s talking about, and Geno makes a frustrated noise. He won’t meet Sid’s eyes, and every line of his body is screaming embarrassment, but he soldiers on, in almost a whisper, “Like if I need, um… clean inside—”

“Oh! Got it,” Sid says, glad to be able to put Geno out of his misery. “I know what you mean.” Now that he knows what Geno’s asking, Sid gives the matter some thought. “You can?” he hazards, although they’d have to make a trip to the drug store for a kit. “For what it’s worth,” he offers, “I never bothered, when I did stuff with my own ass. But if it would make you more comfortable…”

“If you say it’s okay for you, then it’s okay for me,” Geno says, with a relieved smile.

“Okay, awesome,” Sid says, returning his smile. Another thought occurs to him, and he asks, as neutrally as he can, “When you got ready, you didn’t, um… put your fingers—”

But Geno says, “No, Sid,” shaking his head, and reaches for Sid’s hands. Quietly, he says, “I want you do.”

Sid tangles his fingers with Geno’s and breathes a small sigh of relief. He’d been really hoping that would be Geno’s answer. “I want it to be me, too,” he confesses, and Geno smiles.

He asks, “You ready, Sid?”

“Yeah,” Sid says, holding Geno’s gaze, starting to feel the heat of anticipation. “I’m ready.” Then he catches a whiff of his own breath and adds, embarrassed, “Um, as soon as I brush my teeth. Sorry. Be right back.”

When he dashes back into the bedroom, Geno has pushed the covers down to the foot of the bed and sprawled out, long and bare and beautiful, on the dark blue sheets. Sid’s mouth goes dry, and his heart thumps with want. “You look unbelievable,” he says hoarsely.

Geno turns his head to smile at Sid, and replies, “Look better with you on me. Come on, Sid.”

Sid climbs onto the bed and settles himself over Geno, his knees bracketing Geno’s hips and his hands braced by Geno’s shoulders. “Hi,” he whispers, shivering as Geno winds his arms around Sid’s back. God, that’s good.

“Hi, Sid,” Geno says back, his smile crinkling up the corners of his eyes. He adds, a little uncertainly, “You’re captain now, okay?”

A powerful warmth fills Sid’s chest in response to Geno’s words, radiating deep into his bones and sparking a fierce heat at the base of his spine. “I’ll take care of you, yeah,” Sid promises, throat tight with emotion. “You don’t have to worry about anything.”

Geno hums a little and says, “Best,” leaning up to catch Sid’s mouth in a kiss.

When Geno is done having his way with Sid’s mouth—for now, anyway—Sid forces himself to think practically. He snags a pillow for Geno’s hips, and pulls the lube out of the bedside drawer. “Condom?” he asks. They’d had a discussion about condoms shortly after the first time Geno had sucked Sid off, swapped test results, but this is a little different from blowjobs, and he wants Geno to feel comfortable about absolutely every bit of it.

Geno replies, “If you want,” shrugging. “For me, I don’t need.”

Sid’s pulse kicks up a notch. “Okay,” he says, voice shaking just a little. “Okay. Then we won’t.” Next, he tells Geno, “I’m gonna put this pillow under your hips, to tilt them up, okay?”

Geno nods, then casually wrecks Sid’s composure by lifting his legs and draping them over Sid’s shoulders, using his new leverage to lift his hips up off the bed. Sid stuffs the pillow under Geno’s hips mostly without looking – his eyes are glued to the flex of Geno’s thigh muscles, stretched out in front of him. “Oh my god, Geno,” he mumbles, stroking up the underside of Geno’s thighs with both hands, cupping Geno’s calves in his palms, feeling the smooth strength in the muscles there.

“Yes, you like,” Geno murmurs, grinning up at Sid, eyes sparkling. It makes Sid glad they waited – glad that they can do this smiling and laughing, not anxious and hesitant like they were last night.

Sid turns his head to kiss the swell of Geno’s calf, settled on his shoulder. He pops the cap on the lube and folds forward for a kiss; Geno sighs into his mouth and lets his legs slip off of Sid’s shoulders to rest along his sides instead.

When he breaks the kiss, Sid chews on his lower lip and assembles his game plan. “Okay,” he tells Geno, keeping his voice quiet, “here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to start with one finger, just to get you used to having something inside. I’m going to use lots of lube, and I’m going to go slow, but you just let me know if it hurts, or if it’s uncomfortable and you want to stop. Okay?”

Geno gives him a small smile. “Okay, Sid.”

“Then, if you’re ready,” Sid continues, holding eye contact, “I’m going to try with two fingers, just trying to get you comfortable, get you nice and relaxed so I can be sure I won’t hurt you—and however long that takes, that’s how long it takes, and it doesn’t matter,” he adds firmly. “If we can’t get there this morning, then hey, we’ll try again tonight – whatever it takes to make it good. That’s the plan. Okay?”

Geno nods – he looks a little amused. “Good to know game plan.”

Sid flushes, feeling suddenly self-conscious, realizing that that might have been a little too much like diagramming a play – not exactly good dirty talk.

But Geno just smiles and says warmly, “Best captain,” stroking a hand through Sid’s hair, and Sid leans into the touch, reassured.

Taking a deep breath, he lubes up a finger and then reaches down, between Geno’s legs. When he brushes over the tight little furl of skin there, so small and vulnerable, tenderness blossoms under his breastbone, and he has to lean up for a kiss, to pour that tenderness into the space between them. “Ready?” he murmurs against Geno’s mouth.

Geno replies, low, “Ready, Sid.”

“Okay,” Sid whispers. “Try to relax for me, okay?”

When he feels Geno’s rim unclench slightly against the pad of his finger, he slowly, carefully, presses inside.

He’d been ready to stop right away, but his finger slips in with shocking ease, all the way up to the third knuckle in one slick slide before Geno’s body clenches down again. “Oh, wow,” Sid says, voice shaky, “oh, you did so good, Geno. You feel so good. Incredible.”

Sid knows that it doesn’t make any logical sense, but he would swear, he would _swear_ that Geno feels even hotter and more silky-smooth inside than Sid remembers from touching himself this way. It makes Sid feel dizzy with arousal, but he forces himself to focus. He asks Geno, “Does it feel okay? Are you doing okay?”

Geno smiles up at him. “Feel okay,” he affirms. “Weird, a little, but always weird first – is nothing bad. And I can see you like,” he adds slyly, tilting his head to look at Sid through his eyelashes.

“I do,” Sid whispers. He smiles back at Geno, trying to give back some of the reassurance Geno has given him. “Hey, kiss me.”

Geno cups his hand around the back of Sid’s neck and pulls him down for a kiss while Sid strokes his finger in and out, trying to get Geno used to the feeling—and trying to get used to the feeling himself. Trying to get used to being allowed—no, _invited_ —to touch Geno this way.

Sid expected that fucking Geno would feel really intimate, obviously… but he didn’t expect that just having one finger inside of Geno would already feel like reaching inside _himself_. He can feel his hands shaking and his throat getting tight. What he can’t get over—what he didn’t see coming—is how overwhelming the… the _newness_ of it is. It’s new to Sid, of course; he’s never touched Geno or anyone else this way. But it’s new to Geno, too, and that has a weight that Sid didn't expect.

Geno knows things about Sid that nobody else knows – Sid’s always aware of that. Some of the stuff Geno knows, he knows because Sid told him. Some of it is stuff that Geno has read from him, through the bond or through the touch of his skin. But this, Sid is starting to realize—this hitch in Geno’s breathing, this heat inside of him—this is something that Sid knows about _Geno_ that no one else has ever known. Maybe something that nobody else will ever know. And that’s incredible.

“Sid? You okay?” Geno asks, shaking Sid out of his thoughts. He looks worried – god knows what Sid’s been broadcasting.

Sid smiles and leans in for a kiss. “Yeah,” he whispers against Geno’s lips. “I’m good. I’m really good. I’m just blown away by how good you feel, that’s all. And how much I want you.”

“I want, too, Sid,” Geno whispers back. Tentatively, he adds, “More? Is ready?”

“Yeah, I think you’re ready for more.” Geno feels nice and relaxed now, not clenching around Sid’s finger on the out-stroke the way he had at first. Sid pulls his finger out, and winces in sympathy when Geno makes a face. “Sorry, I know it feels a little weird.” He stretches up to kiss Geno as he lubes up his first two fingers and rests them against Geno’s hole. “Try and relax for me again,” he murmurs, close against Geno’s temple, and when he feels the give in Geno’s rim, he presses his fingers inside. It’s an easy, smooth slide again, all the way in—and then Geno’s body immediately clamps down, making them both gasp.

Looking frustrated, Geno starts apologizing, but Sid shakes his head right away. “Don’t be sorry,” he says firmly. “You’re asking these muscles to do something new – it’s normal to need some time to adjust. And anyway,” he adds, “I like touching you this way. You can see that, right?”

Geno smiles, a little tentative at first, then widening into a grin when he reaches down and cups Sid’s hard cock, making Sid moan. “Yes,” he murmurs, very low, “you right. I see you like. I _feel_ you like,” he adds, wicked, with a quick squeeze that makes Sid’s hips jerk helplessly.

“ _Fuck_.” Sid’s not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed when Geno lets go of his dick. “So, uh…” Shit, what was he talking about? Oh, right: “So no more sorry, okay?” Sid says, leaning down for a quick kiss. “This is good. It’s all good.”

Geno smiles up at him again – there’s nothing tentative about it this time. “Okay, Sid.”

“Plus, I can help with feeling more relaxed, I think.” Sid presses up with the pads of his fingers, rubbing gently without pulling his fingers out. It takes a few seconds, but he knows he’s got the right spot when Geno lets out a low, luxurious hum, like the sound he makes when he steps into a hot shower. Sid smiles, and keeps his fingertips circling, and Geno hums louder and lets his head fall back against the bed.

“See? I’m right always,” he tells Sid, smug. His voice is gratifyingly breathy. “I tell you, you do the work, is— _oh_ —is best.”

Dryly, Sid says, “Happy to be of service,” but there’s no point pretending he doesn’t mean it – he loves making Geno feel good, and he feels a special thrill of pride at knowing that he can please Geno better than Geno could please himself.

Geno is always beautiful, but Sid thinks he’s never looked better than he does right now – a pink flush traveling down his chest and his hands coming up to tangle in his own hair as his pleasure grows. Sid knows this slow build very well—the crescendo from moans to cries, from warmth to heat—but he only knew, before, how that pleasure moved through his own body. It’s infinitely hotter to watch it move through Geno’s… and that’s _before_ Geno starts squirming around on Sid’s fingers, trying to get more.

“Oh, fuck,” Sid says helplessly. He pulls his fingers out slightly and then in again, and Geno groans and shoves his hips up to meet Sid’s thrusts. He’s still a little tighter around Sid’s fingers than Sid would like, but he’s not clenching down for dear life like he was before, and Sid meant it when he told Geno that there was no rush.

Geno lets go of his own hair and reaches up for Sid’s, instead. He murmurs, rough, “Most good, Sid. You see _I_ like, too, yes?”

“Yeah,” Sid agrees, his voice shaking, “I can see how you like it. I can feel it. God, Geno, I fucking _love_ feeling you move on my fingers…”

Geno groans and pulls Sid down for a filthy kiss, rocking his hips into Sid’s hand the whole time. When he breaks the kiss, he’s panting and his pupils are huge, even in the bright morning light. “Feels,” he gasps, “feels so—so good, Sid, fuck, I—” He shakes his head back and forth, pressing his lips together like he doesn’t have words for what he’s feeling.

Sid’s words feel stripped away, too. He barely even notices how hard he is, except when his cock brushes against Geno’s thigh, making him shiver. All his focus is on _Geno’s_ body, on every little twitch and sigh that Geno makes under and around him. He keeps his fingers working, thrusting in and out, always making sure to stroke Geno’s prostate.

Suddenly, Geno gasps, “Sid, stop, feels like I’m gonna come, don’t—” and Sid freezes.

When Geno says stop, Sid’s always going to stop—always—but he wants Geno to know that they don’t _have_ to stop, not because of that. “You can come,” he tells Geno urgently. “I would love that, Geno, there’s—please, it’s okay, let me make you come like this, it would be so hot—”

But Geno shakes his head and says with determination, “No, want you _in_ me, come on, Sid, want to come with _you_ , your dick—”

“Oh, you—you…” God, it’s so hard to _think_ , but Sid makes himself do it, buckle down and focus. He tests Geno’s rim, and yeah, Sid’s fingers are sliding in and out smoothly, now – he feels relaxed, as far as Sid can tell, so…

“O-okay,” Sid stammers, starting to shiver as a huge hit of adrenaline courses through his system. “If that’s what you want, then—”

Geno cups the back of Sid’s neck and holds his gaze. “Is what I want,” he promises, steady. “Gonna be okay, Sid. Gonna be so good.”

“Okay,” Sid says, mostly to himself. “Okay. Yeah.” He pulls his fingers out as gently as he can, and shifts around on the bed until he’s braced over Geno’s body. Geno’s got too much height on him for them to be able to kiss easily while they do this, so Sid kisses the hollow of Geno’s throat instead, trying to impart comfort—for both of them. As Geno’s legs come up to wrap around Sid’s back, Sid maneuvers his hips until he can feel the wet kiss of Geno’s entrance right at the head of his cock. The wetness sparks something in Sid’s memory—“Oh, fuck,” Sid says, grabbing for the lube to slick himself up, “fuck, sorry, I almost forgot, God—”

“But not forget,” Geno points out, stroking Sid’s cheek reassuringly with his thumb. “First time. We get best later. Come on, now, Sid.”

Sid promises, “Now, yeah,” and takes a deep breath before lining himself up again. “Relax for me, just like you did before,” he murmurs into the side of Geno’s neck, “push out, open for—”

And then Sid is inside.

“Oh, fuck,” he gasps, almost panicked with the twin gut-punches of nerves and pleasure. “Oh, fuck.” Just the head of his cock is inside, but already it’s so good – he’s _inside_ of Geno’s body, so tight and hot, and just for Sid, only for Sid. “Geno, Geno, is it okay—”

“Okay, Sid,” Geno assures him, but he looks almost as nervous as Sid feels. His thighs are pressed so tight against Sid’s ribs, and Sid can feel the tension in his body, humming underneath Sid’s. “Just, slow, yes? Is good, for sure, but is… new, is a lot, I don’t know.” Sid can see that Geno is only half-hard again, and even though he knows that’s normal, it still doesn’t feel great.

“Slow,” he vows, trying to hold himself perfectly still even though his body wants nothing more than to _push_. “As slow as you want. You’re the captain from now on, okay? You say go, you say stop, it’s up to you.”

Geno nods, then says carefully, “I’m relax more, then a little more in, okay?”

“Yes.” Sid waits, and as soon as the pressure around the head of his cock eases, he presses in maybe another inch—and god, it is _not_ easy to stop, but… “Good?” he asks, lips brushing over the side of Geno’s neck. Because that’s what matters.

“Good,” Geno agrees, but there’s a _but_ coming, Sid can tell, and his stomach sinks. But Geno doesn’t say he wants to stop. Instead, he strokes a hand down Sid’s back and decides, “Slow is good but too slow is just make too much nervous – you go in all the way, okay, Sid? And then less nervous.”

Sid nods and says again, “Whatever you want, Geno. You’re the captain now.” He would do it anyway, because it’s what Geno wants, but honestly, he thinks Geno’s right about this – dragging it out is only going to make them both even more anxious. He kisses the curve of Geno’s collarbone and says, “Relax a little more for me?” And when Geno lets out a breath and relaxes around him, inside and out, Sid slowly, steadily, presses in until he’s completely sheathed inside of Geno.

A sound he doesn’t recognize claws its way out of his throat—something helpless and low—and his whole body is screaming at him _move, move, move_ , but Sid stays absolutely still. He doesn’t remember closing his eyes, but they’re clenched shut. He opens them and looks for Geno’s face, searching for any hint of discomfort or fear… but he doesn’t find it. Instead, Geno’s face is open, amazed – reflecting Sid’s own awe back at him. He presses his fingers clumsily to Sid’s jaw and asks, wide-eyed, “You—you in, Sid? You inside me?”

“Yes,” Sid whispers back, hardly believing it himself. There’s a constant running feed in his brain telling him _hot, tight, good_ , but he keeps it off to one side _._ It’ll be there when he needs it, but right now, he needs his focus for something else. “I am, G, I’m inside y—”

His voice dies when Geno reaches his hand down between their bodies, groping for the place where they’re joined – when he finds it, when his fingers brush against the root of Sid’s cock, Sid has to shut his eyes again or lose control completely. When he opens them, Geno is looking straight at him, wondering and soft and more naked than Sid’s ever seen him.

“Oh,” Geno says, so quiet. “Oh. Sid.”

Shaky, Sid replies, “Yeah, it’s me,” which makes no fucking sense, but Geno nods, and the corners of his mouth turn up.

“Only you,” he agrees, still so very quiet. He pulls his hand out from between them and cups Sid’s jaw tenderly. “Don’t be scared, Sid. Is not hurt. Only good. Only happy.”

Sid’s eyes sting, and he _has_ to kiss Geno, he has to, and he stretches up for it, trying so hard to reach Geno’s lips. He doesn’t mean to move his hips, not before Geno says to, but as he stretches out, his cock shifts inside of Geno and they both moan. Geno cranes his neck down at what has to be a horribly uncomfortable angle and brushes his lips over Sid’s, just for a moment. Then he lies back against the pillows and smiles up at Sid, wide and warm. “Fuck me, Sid,” he says simply. “Gonna be so good.”

“It will be,” Sid promises. “For both of us.” And then he finally lets himself move.

He keeps it to little twitches of his hips at first, shallow and slow – partly for Geno’s sake, sure, but also for his own, because even those tiny thrusts are overwhelming. The sheer physical sensation—the _hot_ and the _tight_ and the _smooth_ from before, now kicked into another gear by the _friction_ that had been missing—would be enough to wreck him, but that’s not even close to all that Sid’s feeling. This is _Geno_ wrapped around him, welcoming him in, inviting Sid to know him in a way that no one else ever has. Not only that, but he _likes_ it, likes Sid moving inside him, and Sid can see the evidence with his own eyes. Sid’s pulse beats double-time when Geno reaches back down between them to stroke his cock and Sid sees how hard he is, and how he’s starting to rock into Sid’s thrusts.

Sid summons the brainpower to gasp, “Should I keep—or do you want—uh, harder, or faster, or—”

“Yes, all, _more_ ,” Geno manages, with a voice that sounds scraped raw, and Sid takes hold of Geno’s hip with one hand and obeys.

The moan that pours out of Sid at the first deep thrust is shockingly loud, and he thinks dumbly, _I’m not loud in bed_ —vocal, sometimes, but not _loud_ —but apparently when he’s fucking Geno, the normal rules don’t apply. That’s true for Geno, too, who _does_ get loud, but who’s making these soft, incendiary little gasps every time Sid bottoms out inside him. He’s looking up at Sid with so much emotion in his eyes, pleasure and something deeper than pleasure, and Sid can’t look away. He’s never seen anything so beautiful.

His whole life long, Sid had been taught in a thousand little ways that this act _could_ be beautiful… but only between a man and a woman. Between men, it wasn’t like that – it couldn’t be. Between men, it was violent, and ugly, and degrading.

Sid had absorbed those lessons, and he bears the scars of them to this day. But with his signature stubbornness, he’d wanted this anyway—he’d believed, in spite of everything, that it could be something more. And now that he’s here, in Geno’s arms, connected so closely that they’re one body, he knows that he was right: this act can be beautiful, and tender, and loving. And it is.

“I love you,” Sid murmurs, halfway out of his mind with pleasure. Everywhere they’re touching, Sid’s skin feels hypersensitive, from the strong clasp of Geno’s thighs around his sides to the rhythmic rub of Geno’s knuckles against Sid’s belly where he’s jerking himself off. He can feel the building heat in his groin that means his orgasm is on the way, but he won’t give in to it yet, not until he’s sure Geno’s ready. Distantly, he wonders if he should be embarrassed to be on the verge of coming so soon, but that just seems stupid. The slick clutch of Geno’s body around his cock, the way Geno is curled around him so desperately, like he has to take hold of as much of Sid as he possibly can – how could Sid not be blown away by that?

He hears Geno murmuring, broken, “ _Ochen kho-khorosho_ ,” and Sid gasps, “Are you close?” That’s what Geno breaking into Russian usually means, but this is all so new, and he wants to be sure.

Geno replies, “ _Da_ , yes, close,” hoarse and ragged, and his hand grips Sid’s shoulder more tightly. “Close, I want— _you_ come, Sid, I want—”

Sid nods, too far gone for words, and stops holding himself back. His orgasm sizzles through body like lightning, shaking him down to his toes and making his hips jerk in a last handful of thrusts, beyond his control. Just a few seconds later, he feels Geno’s own orgasm ripple through his body, making Sid groan when Geno’s ass clenches around him one more time.

Sid has just enough muscle control left to sink slowly down onto Geno’s chest rather than just flopping onto him. He smiles against Geno’s breastbone when he feels Geno’s limbs go pliant around him. It’s nice to know that they’re both feeling it.

“I swear I will get up, like, any minute now,” he murmurs. “I know I’m heavy, I know—”

“Shhhh, Sid,” Geno whispers, patting Sid’s cheek. “I’m, um… after-shine now, is nice.”

Sid’s smile goes soft and he whispers back, “Okay.” He’s feeling pretty damn afterglow-y himself right now. He’d been so fucking nervous, but then… nothing bad happened. None of the things he was afraid of had been realized. It was like Geno had said when Sid was first inside him: only good. Only happy. There are things Sid would change, for sure; now that his brain is coming back online, he’s realizing that he basically forgot all about Geno’s prostate once the actual fucking started, which… not his finest bedroom moment. But Geno had liked it anyway—loved it, as far as Sid can tell—and Geno was right when he told Sid that they’d “get best later.” For a first effort, Sid thinks, they pretty much crushed it.

Geno pats his cheek again and says, “I’m feel sticky now, so is probably time you get up.”

Sid laughs a little. “Fair enough.” He levers himself up, biting off a sharp noise when he feels himself slip out of Geno’s ass; Geno immediately makes a face, and Sid winces, remembering how un-fun it was to take a toy out of his ass after he’d come. He leans down to kiss the notch in Geno’s collarbone and murmurs, “Sorry, G, should have warned you – that’s a weird feeling, I know.”

Geno shakes his head, giving Sid a fond look. “You warn me, is still weird feeling – not your fault, okay? Is—” He cuts himself off and narrows his eyes for a split-second. “Okay,” he says ruefully, “that’s also weird feeling. Little bit hot, but weird.”

“What’s a…”

Geno pulls his right leg up to his chest and Sid’s eyes immediately drop to Geno’s hole, where—oh. Where Sid’s come is starting to trickle out. “Oh, I’m…” Sid starts, meaning to say he’s sorry, but. He’s really, really not. “Oh my god,” he mumbles, eyes glued to Geno’s entrance, pink and open and—and—

Suddenly his sightline is interrupted by a hand waving in front of his face. “Hello, Sid,” Geno is saying – when Sid looks up at his face, Geno is wearing an amused expression. “Okay, so you like that,” he says dryly. “Is worth weird, then, I think.”

“Sorry,” Sid begins, guiltily, “if you don’t like it, then I w—”

Geno rolls his eyes. “I like, silly. I, um.” He blushes slightly, and won’t meet Sid’s eyes when he says quietly, “I feel. Inside. When you come. Is… not like anything I feel before. Is… I like,” he finishes, almost shyly.

“Oh my _god_ , Geno,” Sid says, wrecked. His stupid emotions don’t even know what to _do_ with that: he feels hopelessly tender and fiercely possessive and desperately turned-on and purely, simply happy all at the same time. His chest almost hurts from trying to hold it all.

He surges up the bed to kiss Geno deeply, curving one shaking hand around Geno’s face. Geno make a low, sweet sound into his mouth and kisses back, twining his own fingers into Sid’s hair. When Sid breaks the kiss, the soft sound of their lips parting seems loud in the quiet of their bedroom. The sun is well and truly up now, and shafts of bright yellow light are pouring in through the curtains. Geno’s lips are red and wet, and every time Sid lets their mouths part, he can’t bear the separation, so he leans in again for another kiss, and another, and another.

Eventually, Geno nips at Sid’s lower lip with a sharpness that tells Sid that he’d like a little space to breathe. Sid pulls back, and Geno smiles at him. “So nice kisses, Sid.” Then he wrinkles his nose a little and says, “But still sticky, so…”

Sid laughs. “Yeah, fair enough. Hang on a second, I’ll go get a washcloth.”

He levers himself off the bed, missing the warmth of Geno’s body immediately. As he turns toward the en suite, he feels Geno grabs his hand, and he turns back. “What’s up, G?”

Geno bites his lower lip and says uncertainly, “Come back soon, okay, Sid?”

 _I’m feel lonely, after_ , Geno had told him – something about Geno’s voice, the look on Geno’s face, brings that memory back to Sid, and his heart clenches. _You won’t be lonely with me_ , Sid had promised, _I won’t let that happen_. He remembers that, too, and he stands by it.

He pulls Geno’s hand up to his lips and kisses Geno’s knuckles—maybe it’s cheesy, or old-fashioned, but he can’t help himself. “I’ll be right back,” he swears, holding Geno’s gaze. “Before… before you can count to ten, okay? Well, before you can count to fifteen, anyway,” he amends, not wanting to over-promise.

“Okay, Sid.” Geno squeezes Sid’s hand, then lets him go.

Sid feels zero shame about sprinting into the bathroom – he has a promise to keep, and the only person who might see him and laugh is Geno, who’s seen him do way more ridiculous things in the ten-plus years that they’ve known each other. Once he’s there, he turns the sink on hot full-blast, and digs out two washcloths from the cabinet while the water heats up. As soon as the water is warm—he doesn’t want to wait for hot—he wets the washcloths and then stuffs one in each armpit to keep them warm.

As he sprints back into the bedroom and climbs back into bed, Geno says, grinning, “You back in twelve—pretty good, Sid.”

“I was trying for ten,” Sid grumbles, and Geno laughs.

When they’re done cleaning up, Sid pitches the washcloths toward the bathroom door – usually he’s pretty persnickety about hanging them up properly, but he’s not planning on leaving Geno alone right now if he can help it, not even for a few seconds. He slots himself in along Geno’s side and rests his head on Geno’s chest with a sigh.

“Hey,” he mumbles into Geno’s sternum, “are you… was it good?” He’s pretty sure of the answer, but it’s not the kind of thing he wants to take for granted.

Geno hums—a pleased, catlike sound, almost a purr. “ _Most_ good, Sid,” he murmurs. “And I think good for you, too, yes?”

“Oh, it—it was,” Sid tells him, almost laughing at the understatement of it. He doesn’t know if words will be able to get at what he’s feeling, especially when he’s still kind of come-stupid, but he tries. “It was… amazing, Geno. It was… I’ve never felt anything like that,” he finishes, hearing the awe in his own voice. He turns his head to lay a cluster of kisses on Geno’s chest, and whispers, “Thank you.”

Geno tips Sid’s chin up until he can look Sid in the face – his lips are tilted up at the corners with amusement, but his eyes are warm. “Is not thing for say ‘thank you,’ Sid. I like, yes? I want. Is not favor, or… or gift. I ask _you_ , remember?”

Geno _had_ asked. And at the time, Sid had been so caught up in his own want and his own nerves that he hadn’t really thought about that part of it – about what it must have taken for Geno to ask him for this.

Sid knows from experience how hard it is to ask for _any_ kind of sex stuff – the doubts that creep in when you imagine saying what you want. _What if he thinks it’s weird? What if he’s not interested? What if he thinks it means I’m bored, that what we’re already doing isn’t enough? What if he thinks that’s a bad thing to want, or thinks I’m a bad person for wanting it?_ Add to that all the specific baggage that comes with asking to get fucked, and add onto _that_ the insecurity of not having done it before and worrying that you might suck at it…

There’s probably more, too – stuff that Sid can only guess at. He forgets, sometimes, that Geno was raised in an even more homophobic culture than Sid’s. There may be cultural stuff in Russia around getting fucked that Sid doesn’t have a clue about – words that echo in Geno’s head that Sid’s never even heard.

In fact, now that Sid’s finally thinking about it—which he should have done before, but there was a lot going on last night, and he’s not going to kick his own ass about it _too_ much—he’s kind of amazed that Geno managed to get the words out at all. Sure, they’ve been doing pretty good at talking about sex stuff, but that’s like… on another level.

It was really hot—super fucking hot—for Geno to tell Sid that he wants Sid to fuck him. But it was really brave, too, and Sid didn’t totally get that before. But he gets it now.

“You did ask,” he agrees, holding Geno’s gaze. “And I guess I’m—really, I’m thanking you for that. That was really brave of you, G.”

Geno blushes a little and makes a protesting sound. “If I don’t ask, you ask,” he attempts, but Sid shakes his head.

“I don’t think I would have, G,” Sid says quietly. “Or—not for a long time, anyway. I’m not—I’m not as brave as you.”

“Hey,” Geno says, just as quietly, stroking Sid’s cheek with his thumb. “You brave, okay? I know you scared a lot that maybe you hurt me if you fuck me or maybe I don’t really want, and you do anyway. You trust I know what I want, and trust I don’t let you hurt me, and this is brave also. ” He’s looking at Sid intently, like it’s really important for Sid to believe him.

When they first got together, maybe Sid wouldn’t have, but here and now, he does. He doesn’t know that he’d call himself _brave_ , exactly, but… what Geno said is true: it _was_ hard for Sid to let go and trust Geno to let him know if something wasn’t right, and he did it anyway, and he can agree that that counts for something.

Geno must see it in his face. He smiles at Sid and leans back into the pillows. “Good.”

As happy as Sid is to have Geno’s approval, he’s not satisfied yet. “I _am_ going to try to do better,” he insists. “Asking for stuff is hard, and it’s not fair for you to always have to do all the asking, so I’m—I’m gonna work on that. Okay?”

Geno nods, still smiling up at Sid, warm and a little crooked. “Okay, Sid.” He tugs Sid down for a kiss.

When Sid pulls back, he glances at the clock – they don’t have anywhere to be until the afternoon, but if they’re going to be responsible, they should get up and eat breakfast now. The problem is, Sid doesn’t really feel like being responsible. Reluctantly, he asks Geno, “You want to get up for breakfast, or—”

“Nap,” Geno says definitively, absolving Sid of sole guilt for their irresponsibility. “And then breakfast.”

“Yeah,” Sid agrees, relieved. “That sounds good to me, too.” He settles in on his side, facing away from Geno as usual, waiting for Geno to spoon up behind him.

Instead, he hears Geno say, “Hey, Sid?” His voice trembles – just the tiniest bit, but that’s enough to make Sid concerned.

He cranes his head to look back over his shoulder and asks, “What’s up, Geno?”

There’s a pause, and then Geno asks, tentatively, “Can you be big spoon today?”

Sid flips over so fast he almost lands on top of Geno. Flustered, dazed with tenderness, he says, “Of course I can be the big spoon – any time you want, okay? Anytime.” He wraps his arm around Geno’s waist and buries his nose in Geno’s hair, feeling contentment flow through him – some of it from the bond, but the rest just from how good it feels to have Geno in his arms. “I really like this,” he adds softly, so Geno knows for sure. “I love holding you – it feels so good. I just assumed you’d want it the other way because you’re taller. But I like being close to you any way I can.”

Geno hums quietly and snuggles back against Sid. “I like holding you also,” he assures Sid. “But tonight, it’s a lot of feelings, and I want like this. Don’t know why – just want.”

Sid lays a soft kiss on the nape of Geno’s neck. “Doesn’t have to be a reason. We should do what feels good, and… this feels good. So.”

“Yes,” Geno murmurs, sounding contented.

Sid bites his lip, debating with himself… but if he doesn’t ask, he’ll just lie here worrying instead of napping. “They’re, um… if they’re _bad_ feelings, you would tell—”

“Not bad feelings,” Geno promises him, already sounding muzzy with approaching sleep. “Just a lot. Feel a lot about you, Sid.”

“That’s… yeah. That’s a good way of putting it,” Sid agrees, keeping his voice soft. “I feel a lot about you, too. A lot of good things.”

“A lot of good things,” Geno repeats, slow and quiet. “Always.”

Sid pulls Geno just a little bit closer. “Always,” he promises, and lets himself drift down with Geno into sleep.


End file.
